


Blackmail

by siriusissues



Series: Brotherly Love [1]
Category: DCU
Genre: Crack, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusissues/pseuds/siriusissues
Summary: Jason has a plan, which involves blackmailing. It was meant as a joke, it was supposed to be funny, but it ends up making him feel miserable and out of place.





	Blackmail

**Author's Note:**

> most of this shit is just crack, but it's also got some heavy parts

It’s been around two years since Jason showed up in Gotham again, seemingly physically unscratched, like he wasn’t beaten with a crowbar and died in an explosion a few years prior. The only difference, besides the normal body changes a teenager goes through, was the streak of white hair now falling over his forehead. Untamed, as usual. It mixed with his natural black hair very well.

Perhaps, this white streak of hair, was a sign of how much he had lost of himself when he was brought back to life. He was the same as before, just… different, somehow.

And even though he’s been around for two years now, it still feels a little strange to see Jason around the manor like nothing ever happened at all. Like he never died, like he never wanted to kill Bruce for not avenging his death, like he’s not held all of them at gunpoint at some point. Like he hasn’t murdered.

Dick finds him in the kitchen, eating cereal without milk by the counter. He does that a lot, the older man has noticed. Yet he doesn’t care enough to find out why. Jason’s been cold to everyone since his return, especially Tim.

It took them some time to make him come around, and even longer to get him to warm up. He’s been staying at the manor for around half a year. He claims it’s because he got kicked out of the apartment he got by his return and couldn’t bother to find a new place to stay. To say that Alfred was shocked when he showed up on the doorstep of the large doors of the Wayne Manor, with only a black duffle bag and blinking away raindrops from his hooded eyes, is an understatement. He was welcomed in immediately.

He had apologized to all of them, although it took him some time. Tim had been uneasy at first, which wasn’t strange considering Jason had wanted to get rid of him,  _ his replacement. _ They didn’t talk, Jason didn’t speak. Tim did try though, going for light conversing but it was all in vain. Jason never responded. Until one day, when Dick  _ accidentally _ overheard them chatting in the library. It wasn’t a lot, they were just comparing some of Dickens early works, but they were talking all the same. Dick had smiled, although no one could see it, and knew that Jason had apologized and perhaps accepted that Tim is part of his family, too.

The younger man looks up when he notices Dick’s presence in the kitchen. And it’s not a smile, because Jason Todd  _ does not _ smile, but his eyes softens a bit and Dick decides to think of it as the same thing.

“Hello, Dickiebird,” Jason says and flashes him a grin. It’s always just a grin. Wicked grins and mischievous smirks are his speciality. He shoves another spoonful of dry cereal into his mouth, talking as he chews. “You know, so I was thinking--”

“Only took you twenty years to figure out how to, Todd,” Damian interrupts as he enters the kitchen as well. Jason shoots him a glare. Damian is already ignoring him again though, getting a bowl from a cupboard and getting milk from the fridge, placing them on the counter. Jason makes no move to get the milk. Apparently he  _ enjoys _ dry cereal. Dick wrinkles his nose in disgust.

“Anyway, like I said before the demon brat oh so kindly interrupted me--” this earns him a snort from said demon brat, who's now putting milk in the bowl. “--I was wondering if we could watch this movie that I got a while ago. I have no clue what it’s actually about, but the cover was kind of interesting and I thought “Hey, this could be my new favorite”, so I bought it and--” he stops abruptly, blinking at Damian and Dick who’s staring at him like they’ve seen a ghost.  _ How ironic, _ he thinks.

Dick narrows his eyes at him, then he folds his arms over his chest and gives Jason  _ that  _ look, which means he’s either about to get the scolding of his life, or a whole lot of stupid questions.

“What are you playing at, Jaybird?” Dick asks him suspiciously.  _ So stupid questions it is, then. _

He blinks at him, then frowns because he can’t pull of looking innocent when he’s being questioned. Tim and Dick are really good at that, though, and no one is stupid enough to question Damian, so all he can do is frown, going for the defensive look.

“What?” he huffs, raising a brow at Dick and shoves more cereal into his mouth.

“Why are you asking me if I wanna watch a movie with you? What’s your plan?” the oldest shoots back, growing more and more suspicious. It’s stupid, really, asking if Jason has some kind of plan. What plan would that be, poisoning Dick’s pop-corn? What a low blow. He’s almost offended.

“So I can’t ask you to watch a movie with me just because I feel like maybe we should hang out more? Bond more?” Jason responds after swallowing his cereal. It shouldn’t make Dick look even more confused, yet it does. Jason is not surprised.

“Since when do you think we should “hang out” more?” Dick asks then and really, Jason just wanna choke on his cereal now. Or perhaps make Dick choke on some cereal. Yes, that’d be a  _ great _ plan, evolve his killing streak a little. Damian is watching with something keen to amusement in his eyes and now Jason wants to choke him too.

“Well, according to the papers, we are adoptive brothers,” Jason tries to explain. He hopes that it’d at least make a little sense, but thanks to his amazing luck, it does not. It just creates more questions.

“Since when do you--” the older man begins to say, but he’s smart enough to shut his mouth when Jason cuts him off.

“Oh my fucking ass, Grayson, do you wanna watch the movie or not?” he grits out through clenched teeth, voice louder than necessary. The room fall into silence.

Then, after a moment, Dick unfolds his arms and shrugs, expression going back to normal. “Yeah, okay. Yes, let’s watch the movie,” he says with that careless and optimistic voice of his. Jason grins at him, white teeth flashing.

Damian leaves the kitchen looking utterly disappointed. Jason guesses he was hoping that his adoptive brothers would finally kill each other, but no such luck. He brought the bowl of milk with him, but didn’t bother to put the carton back in the fridge. _ Brat.  _ But really, Jason is no better. At least Damian is taking care of his beloved cat.

 

_ _ _

 

The next couple of days were just as strange. It’s a Friday, and Dick finally manages to get rid of Jason long enough to fucking breathe. It’s not as if he doesn’t enjoy the kid’s company,  _ he does, _ but it’s just so odd. Jason claims that there is no reason at all behind his sudden niceness, only that he never got to know Dick very well before his death and feels like it’s time to make up for lost time. Dick doesn’t buy it for one second. He’s still trying to work out the catch.

But he doesn’t bother to dwell on it for too long, because he’s got the whole manor to himself and Roy’s coming over. He really doesn’t have the time to think about Jason’s strange behaviour, not when he’s got a very attractive redhead waiting for him by the front doors.

Roy greets him with a kiss, as always. It’s chaste and quick. He murmurs a soft “hello” before pulling away and Dick gives him a smile in return. It’s his Roy-smile, apparently. The smile he only ever gives to the redhead, as said man once pointed out. (That was right before their whole  _ thing _ started.)

“Weird not being greeted by Alfred for once,” Roy says as he steps into the foyer. He removes his cap to run his fingers through his long hair before putting it back on.

Dick shrugs, then wraps both hands around Roy’s upper way and starts to lead him through the manor. “He’s out shopping. Brought Jay, Tim and Dami with him. Bruce is at the office, I think,” he explains as they step into a large sitting room. “At least he’s not here. Got the whole manor to ourselves.”

The corner of Roy’s lips quirk up into a small smirk. He takes a seat on one of the couches, grabbing Dick’s hands to pull him closer. The latter happily obligates. “Yeah?” he murmurs in that lusty way of his, that has Dick hooked completely.

The dark haired man nods, confirming his previous statement, and lets Roy tug him closer until finally pulling him onto his lap. Dick easily straddles him, each knee planted by the redhead’s hips, trapping him. Although, he knows that Roy could easily push him off if he wanted to.

“Always wanted to fuck on old and expensive furniture,” Roy tells the other man, his warm breath hitting his lips. He’s still smirking, and Dick knows what that smirk  _ means. _ It makes his heart flutter and his breath hitch.

“Good, got plenty of furniture to fuck on. Although, not in the kitchen. The kitchen is the forbidden area. And the dining hall,” Dick points out, actually ticking them off on his fingers.

“Aw, why not in the kitchen?” the redhead whines, hands moving to Dick’s hips to rub circles into them with his thumbs. He’s pouting now and all Dick wants to do is lean forward just a little bit and kiss those plump lips until they stop pouting. But if he does, they’ll probably end up fucking in the kitchen anyway and that goes against his rules, so he resists this time.

“Roy! We cook there! Alfred prepares our meals in there and frankly I don’t wanna put my family through possibly swallowing come and sweat,” Dick explains, sounding scandalized, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Roy is a bit slow for not understanding right away, that the kitchen is a fuck-free space.

“That’s stupid,” Roy mumbles. It sounds more like a statement, which makes Dick wanna punch him. In the face. With his lips. Really, really hard. He resists this time too. “You were not, in fact, complaining like a maniac when I bent you over the dining table back at my place.”

Dick splutters, suddenly lost for words. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, colouring them a gentle shade of scarlet. But he’s determined not to let his stupid (amazing) man win, so he collects himself and puts on his best stern face. It does not wipe the new smirk off Roy’s features. “Yes, but that was at  _ your _ place.”

Roy raises an eyebrow at him, one of his hands moving from Dick’s hip to his lower back, then over the curve of his ass, stopping there. “So it’s okay at  _ my _ place, but not at  _ your _ place. Babe, is it really any different?”

“Well, obviously,” Dick scoffs and rolls his eyes. It doesn’t make Roy annoyed, like it should, it only makes him chuckle that low and raspy chuckle of his and Dick really wants to give in. But he needs the upper hand, so he tries not to think of where Roy’s is. “Your flat is a rough-sex-everywhere zone, whereas the manor is a quiet-fucking-in-my-bedroom area. Except for now, because nobody’s home, so it’s more like couch-sex-in-the-sitting-room-is-okay-too.”

“So we’re gonna fuck on this couch, then?” Roy asks in a low murmur that makes Dick finally give in because technically he’s won now. No kitchen sex. He’s won, but avoids pointing it out to Roy.

“Why, of course,” he  _ purrs _ and dips down to catch the redhead’s lips in a kiss full of lust and  _ want.  _ He parts his lips when he feels Roy do it, tongues sliding against each other wetly.

Roy’s other hand is also moving, first to Dick’s inner thigh, thumb pressing into it hard before letting go. Then it follows the curve of his hip again, before reaching his ass, giving the flesh a squeeze. It draws out a soft whine from Dick into their kiss, so Roy pulls him closer until their chests are flush against each other and the other man’s slender fingers are grasping at Roy’s shirt, tugging on it so he’ll take it off.

They break apart long enough for Dick to tug the tee over Roy’s head, knocking his cap off in the process which falls to the floor with a soft  _ thud, _ then he drops the tee at the other end of the couch, lips already claimed by Roy’s, again. He lets one hand travel down Roy’s muscular chest, and it’s hard to believe that only a couple of years ago he was severely underweight and starved. The other hand travels along his upper arm, fingers now wrapping around his biceps, thumb rubbing gently over an old scar.

Dick knows that Roy is self-conscious about his old track marks, but it’s been getting better since Dick told him that he does not want him despite his scars, he wants him  _ with _ his scars. He doesn’t bother to try and hide his arms anymore, and the dark haired man is proud of him.

One of Roy’s hands slip under the hem of Dick’s shirt, fingertips tracing the fine hairs disappearing down his jeans. Then he pushes Dick away just slightly, leaning down to plant his lips against the other man’s neck. Dick gasps softly, head tilting to the side to give Roy more room. The redhead nips and sucks at his neck, and he guesses he’ll just wear polo shirts for a while. Even though it’s summer.

Roy’s hand is steady on his chest, the other is still cupping his ass, holding him firm in place. Then, before Dick knows it, Roy pushes him back and shifts to lower him against the couch. He parts his legs without realizing it, his body just moving on routine. Roy slips between his legs like he’s used to it too, already so in sync with each other, and Dick hooks a leg around his waist to bring him closer.

Then, when Roy’s lips are moving to the other side of Dick’s neck to leave more marks and Dick’s hands are gripping the redhead’s long hair and his toned back, there’s a cough echoing through the wide room. Or, not a cough, but like there’s someone clearing their throat not very far from the couch. It can’t be Alfred, because he has this polite and British way of coughing when he wants somebody’s attention, and neither is it Bruce. It doesn’t matter though, cause Roy and Dick break apart so quick that the latter sees dots for a moment.

Dick quickly moves to sit up, accidentally pushing Roy off him in the process, who lands, face first, into the couch with a heavy sigh. And there, by the coffee table, Jason is standing with that signature sparkle in his eyes and a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Dick silently hopes that his face will split in two and possibly kill the other man, but then he remembers that he’s actually been killed not so long ago and his hope is replaced with guilt.

Well, guilt that soon turns into annoyance when his adoptive brother begins to speak, breaking the silence. “Hello, Dickie! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something? Should I just leave you and your  _ boyfriend--” _

“Harper’s not my boyfriend,” Dick responds, cutting Jason off. Roy makes something that sounds like a grunt, but Dick can’t really tell because it’s muffled. He’s still lying face down.

But thanks to every greater power hating his guts, it doesn’t make Jason back off. If anything, it only makes his grin more wicked and Dick wants to punch it off his face. Really, how can Jason actually be twenty years old? He’s always acting like a child. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Damian too much. Dick snorts at the thought.  _ Impossible. _

“No? My bad, then,” Jason says in a way that sounds casual but isn’t casual at all because this is Jason and he’s always wanted to make Dick’s life hell. Now, Dick might sound dramatic, but it’s in his blood so he can’t help it. “Perhaps the right term would be ‘Sugar Daddy.’”

Dick splutters on his next words, almost shrieking “What? No!” as Jason cackles like a maniac at his reaction. Roy sounds like he’s choking, but it could be because he still hasn’t moved and is probably not getting enough air, which is his fault so Dick isn’t going to do anything about it. “If I wanted a sugar daddy I’d just go to Bruce! Not that I have, or ever will, cause I’m with Roy.”

At that Roy sits up and rolls his shoulders, greeting Jason with a smirk and a nod, which Jason returns. Dick scoffs, now planning on sending Roy home without getting to fuck, for interacting with the enemy. He reaches over the redhead and grabs his tee, shoving it into his hands, then goes back to pierce his eyes into Jason,  _ glaring. _

“So you admit it?” Jason says and Dick knows it’s a trap. Everything is a trap with Jason if one isn’t careful. “He’s your boyfriend.”

Dick’s not sure why he’s getting so worked up, because next to him Roy is completely calm and collected as he puts his shirt back on and reaches for his cap still lying on the floor, putting it on backwards. On the other hand, Roy must be complete nuts for not finding the situation odd.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Dick snaps, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “Wait a minute-- aren’t you supposed to be out?”

Jason shrugs and shifts his weight to his other foot, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans. “Nah. I was going to tag along at first, but then I forgot my jacket--” he pauses and makes a point to nod at the leather jacket he’s now wearing. It’s black to separate it from his Red Hood costume, but his everyday outfits are still very much alike it, what with the biker’s boots and all. “--So I went back inside to get it.

“Then I overheard you on the phone, right as I was passing the kitchen, and I thought “Hey, this is the perfect opportunity to find out if my suspicions are correct”, so I told Alfred I had changed my mind and was going to stay behind. And it turns out that I was right, because Harper’s always been visiting at ungodly hours of the day, and the following days you’re always wearing polo shirts. Always, Dickiebird.”

Dick’s hands are unconsciously moving to cover his neck at Jason’s last statement, but the younger man catches him and grins at him again, eyes landing on the blooming bruises. The man next to Dick makes no sign of adding something helpful to the situation, so Dick puts on his best scowl and nudges him in the ribs. It earns him a whimper.

“Anyway,” Jason breathes out as he moves his hands from his pockets and stretches. He claps his hands together, flashes another smirk, and says, “I should get going.” He then brings two fingers to his forehead, saluting the pair on the couch, and plucks a cigarette from behind his ear to put between his plump lips. Dick blinks at him, then he’s gone. Only his cocky laugh can be heard throughout the manor.

“What the fuck just happened,” Dick asks nobody in particular. He turns to look at Roy with questioning eyes.

The redhead shrugs and adjusts his cap, then he looks at Dick too and said man is absolutely stunned at how undisturbed Roy is by the whole thing. “Don’t know, babe. But this is perfect blackmail, you know. It’s Jason, after all.”

Dick nods and with a soft sigh he leans his head against Roy’s shoulder, breathing in the musky but minty scent of the other man. Then, out of nowhere, he stiffens again and shoots up from the couch with a scandalized look on his face. Roy raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Did you see-- Roy, was that a cigarette? Jason-- Cigarettes?” by this point he’s just spluttering again and these are the only words Roy can make out properly. Dick is also flailing his arms all around the place and he’s not going to be surprised if he ends up accidentally breaking something.

“Yeah, well--” Roy tries to say but Dick cuts him off with more spluttering. It’s not easy to get a word in. “Didn’t you know? I thought you knew,” the redhead finally manages to say, raising his voice slightly so Dick will hear him.

He stops and stares at Roy. His usually calm eyes are filled with flames and Roy immediately regrets speaking up, because _ of-fucking-course _ Dick didn’t know already. “You  _ knew? _ How come you knew before me? For how long has he been smoking, anyway?”

Roy shrugs again and picks at a loose piece of skin by his nail. “Since he was around Timmy’s age, I think. How old is Tim again? Fifteen?”

“Tim’s _sixteen,”_ Dick hisses, like Roy somehow should remember how old all of his brothers are. He has enough trouble remembering his own birthday. “And Jason’s been smoking since he was fifteen? _Fifteen?_ Before he even died? How could you possibly know this and I was completely cl-- Oh no. _Fuck_ _no._ You didn’t! Roy Harper, you didn’t!”

The redhead blinks at him, now the one who’s completely clueless. He has no idea what Dick’s getting at, what’s going on in his mind. It doesn’t take him long to find out, though.

“You did not get my baby brother cigarettes! There’s a reason they put age limits on stuff, Roy! He was _ fifteen!” _

Dick’s been mentioning his age so many times now like Roy had no idea that Jason was fifteen at the time, which he knew perfectly well, thank you very much. Jason being a minor was the whole reason he helped him in the first place. And it wasn’t even often. He figures the younger man probably had other people to ask, but came to Roy when none of them were around.

And if Roy returns to his apartment without some couch-sex-in-the-sitting-room-is-okay-too he can’t say he didn’t expect it. The statement turned out to be false, anyway.

 

_ _ _

 

Jason finds Tim in the library, where he expected him to be. The teenager is bent over a book, shoulder length hair hanging over his face and the cover of the book, so Jason can’t make out what he’s reading. He takes a seat on the piano stool by the armchair Tim’s sitting in, and how someone thought putting a grand piano in a library was a good idea, he doesn’t know.

He sits on the stool for a while, waiting for Tim to acknowledge him, but it’s all in vain. Jason knows that Tim  _ knows _ that he’s there, he’s just pretending to be clueless about Jason’s sudden presence. The older man is usually loud, but he’s got some boundaries, at least. Killing, however, is not on that list, but yelling and making unwanted noise in a library is.  _ Jason’s list of boundaries. _ He snorts.

And that gains him Tim’s attention. A snort. That was all it took to disturb Tim enough to speak up. Jason probably didn’t notice, but Tim hasn’t even turned the page since he arrived. He just wanted to see how long Jason could shut up for. (Three minutes. Only three minutes.) “What, you just had another great idea? You wanna watch a movie like brothers-according-to-the-papers?”

“I just thought of my boundaries,” Jason responds, shifting on the stool to lean back on his elbows against the piano. Said piano, however, wasn’t closed and so his elbows hit the black and white keys, making a shrill, out of tune noise echo through the library. He quickly pulls away.

Tim just raises an eyebrow at him, not at all surprised with the sudden noise. Or with Jason for making it. “Really?” the younger man asks, although it sounds too flat to be an actual question. “Is it even possible for you to have boundaries? Like, any at all?”

Jason huffs and places a hand on his chest.  _ It’s gloved, _ Tim thinks.  _ He must have just been outside.  _ Tim stares at him, and he actually looks offended. The younger of them knows better though, that it’s all just an act, a play, to get Tim to warm up. Jason wants something, he just doesn’t know what. Yet.

“Well,  _ excuse _ me--”

“You’re excused,” Tim responds, cutting his adoptive brother off. He’s about to go back to his book when Jason starts to talk again, completely ignoring Tim’s comment.

“--But I am very capable of having boundaries and I put down a lot of work on setting them straight every now and then,” Jason finishes off. He still has a hand to his chest, like he’s swearing upon his soul. Damaged or not.

“Very funny. You going to tell me what they are?” Tim asks. It doesn’t sound like a question this time either. It just sounds like he predicted the future in a very boring voice and like he has little to no interest in it. Like he doesn’t care about Jason’s boundaries at all. The older man is actually starting to take some offense out of this.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Jason mimicks Tim’s flat tone. Then he freezes because that laugh reminds him of someone he’d rather see dead. Tim freezes too, then he’s staring at Jason with wide, dark blue eyes. The older man is quiet, clearly lost in thought.

“Jay,” Tim murmurs softly, closing his book and putting it away to turn his full attention on his brother. “Your boundaries, you were going to tell me about them?”

That’s all it takes for Jason to snap out of it, flashing memories of a crowbar disappearing quickly. His features softens noticeably. He knows that Tim actually doesn’t care to know, that he’s only asking to keep Jason’s mind occupied. But he’s worried, because he’s grown to care about Jason, so the older man doesn’t mind and decides to tell Tim about his list in that casual voice of his with that careless grin on his face. Tim listens.

“Alright, so I have this list, it’s in my head but it doesn’t matter, and it’s also not in a specific order, but I don’t give a shit about that either. Anyway so it’s a list of my boundaries, starting with no loud noises in libraries, followed by no harming of animals, then--”

“If you actually think harming animals is wrong, then you would’ve stopped eating meat by now and wearing so disturbingly much leather, Todd,” Damian interrupts him, eyeing Jason’s boots, jacket, and glove clad hands.

Jason grins up at him, white teeth flashing. For once he’s not annoyed for being cut off. Damian sneers at him. “Great! I was hoping you would show up, Little D!”

Tim blinks at his two brothers, long hair falling into his face. He shakes his head a little to see more clearly, not bothering to reach up and tuck it behind his ears. He’s just about to ask Jason what he means, but Damian beats him to it. It’s nothing unusual.

“Why? Let me tell you why, Demon Wing. Have a seat,” he says and gestures to the armchair where Tim’s sitting. But Damian is not about to share a cramped space with Drake, so he sits in the couch opposite him instead. “Very well,” Jason nods his approval, then shuts the key lid to climb the piano. When he’s reached the top, he plants his boot clad feet on the now closed lid. Damian eyes them with disgust.

“Ladies and Gentlemen--” he starts off, but then quickly cuts himself off this time. “Well, there are no ladies here and neither of you lot are gentlemen, so I’m just gonna have to start over,” he points out, ignoring how Damian rolls his eyes and Tim huffs. Jason gestures with his hands at them, then he says, “Brats! Welcome to the secret Robin meeting!”

“If this is a Robin meeting, then why isn’t Dick here?” Tim asks and Jason wishes that he wouldn’t be such a smartass just for once.

“No, Drake, if this is a Robin meeting then only  _ I _ should be here, considering--” Damian says in that snarky way of his until Jason shushes him.

“Yeah, we get it, Brat Number Two, you’re the one and only Robin, now shut up. And Tim, Dick can’t be here because we’re having this meeting  _ about _ him,” Jason explains and Tim looks a little less confused. Damian just looks like he’s ready to slaughter the man sitting on the grand piano.

“And before you ask why the meeting’s about him, let me explain a little further. You lot know who Roy Harper is? Red Arrow? Arsenal?” the oldest of the group asks, earning nods from the others.

Then Tim pipes up again with another smartass comment and Jason is really starting to question his own decision to invite him to the secret Robin meeting. “If we didn’t already know who he is, then you would’ve just revealed his secret identity.”

Jason glares at him and Damian’s eyes light up with amusement, always happy when Jason makes a mistake or a complete fool out of himself. “Don’t be ridiculous, Timmy! I already know that you two knew who Roy Harper is,” he tries to explain. It’s a mess. Then he raises a hand to hush Tim who’s once again opened his mouth to speak, probably to ask another stupid question, like why Jason asked them if they know about Roy Harper if he already knew that they know.

Damian huffs out an annoyed breath of air from Jason’s right side, making the oldest turn his attention to him instead. “Yes, Damian? Something on your mind?”

“Probably plotting murder,” Tim scoffs out, but Jason ignores him in favour of listening to his other brother.

“Get to the point, Todd. What about Harper?” the youngest snarls in that demonic way of his. Tim shudders.

Jason grins again, and it’s screaming mischief from miles away. And really, Tim isn’t that into causing trouble and make mischief, but if he’s gotten everything right so far, it’s got something to do with Dick and Roy and he really wants to see where this one goes.

“Well, dear Roy Harper- really, he’s a dear, got me cigs and everything- seems to be very special to our beloved older brother. They’re best friends, yeah, we all know this. But! Turns out it’s more than that! Really, I should now, I walked in on them- no, not on purpose, Tim. Don’t be gross- now, this isn’t anything particularly out of the ordinary, but if we play our cards right, it could be some really fucking good blackmail. Right, brats?”

 

_ _ _

 

The following days were unusually quiet for Dick. Mostly he had been strutting around the manor in polo shirts, avoiding Jason, and his two other brothers, at all costs. It went well. Too well. Something’s hanging in the air, making the atmosphere thick, and Dick knows it’s only a matter of time before Jason hits. This is just the build up, and Dick is going down. He’s still not prepared.

But tonight’s finally his day off, and unless something really serious happens and Tim, Jay and Bruce need immediate back up, he’s all good. It’s Damian’s day off too, but Dick has no idea where the demon spawn is, since he’s more than fully capable of taking care of himself. He’s probably better at it than Dick, Jason and Tim combined. It shouldn’t be weird, but it is, because Dick and Jason are  _ adults. _ He shudders.

Alfred’s down in the cave, keeping an eye on the three others just leaving for the night. Dick’s planning on leaving for the night too, cause he’s not seen Roy since he kicked him out that one day not so long ago and he’s  _ pining, _ longing for the redhead.

Sneaking out of the manor is not a difficult task. However, sneaking out unnoticed is. He’s just rounding the corner of the east wing to cross the grounds to the road leading into the city, but he freezes dead in the steps cause there’s someone yelling  _ his _ name.

“In a hurry?” Jason calls out when Dick’s coming closer. The younger man is sitting in the dark on the stairs to the main doors, long legs sprawled out in front of him. “You know, you’ve always been the absolute worst at sneaking out, Dickie. You’re even worse than Tim, and he doesn’t even sneak out. You’re--”

“I get it, Jay,” Dick snaps, making Jason fall silent. But he has a grin plastered on his face, really just wanting to tease Dick. “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be on patrol?”

Jason shrugs and shifts his position. He draws his legs closer to his body, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Nah, didn’t feel well so I traded with Little D,” he explains. It doesn’t sound trustworthy at all. Nonetheless, Dick’s paternal instincts kick in immediately.

“You’re not feeling well? Jay, you shouldn’t be outside when it’s chilly then, you might catch a cold! I know you’re tough and all, but honestly, leather jackets aren’t  _ that _ warm and--” he starts to take his trench coat off, but Jason stops him by raising a hand. Amusement is sparkling in his eyes.

“Dick, it’s  _ summer,” _ the younger man points out and Dick blushes as he puts his coat back on, mumbling stuff under his breath that Jason doesn’t bother to try and catch.

“You shouldn’t be out anyway, you should be in--” he says, adjusting his coat a bit, then stops talking to blink and narrow his eyes at something in Jason’s hand. “Is that-- is that a  _ cigarette?” _

Jason follows Dick’s stare to his own hand, and right there between his index- and middle finger there’s a lit cigarette. He had forgotten about it when he had spotted Dick coming out of the bushes. He hums and confirms Dick’s question, then raises the cigarette to his lips to take a long and steady drag. Dick watches him exhale slowly through the nose.

“Jason!” Dick shrieks and takes a few steps towards his adoptive brother, closing the distance between them. He snatches the cigarette from Jason’s fingers, ignoring the younger man’s spluttering and protests. “I know you’re a legal adult, but seriously? What the heck?”

The man sitting on the stairs shrugs, then shifts again to put his arms on the step behind him, leaning back and watching Dick closely. Well, not Dick, but he’s eyeing the cig he’s holding. Then he licks his lips, grins at the man standing before him, and asks, “Who bought yours?”

Dick’s brows knit together in confusion, then he sees how Jason’s gaze dips again, to the cigarette, and back to Dick. Jason raises an eyebrow at him, and although Dick’s towering over him cause he’s the one standing, Jason’s got the upper hand. The oldest looks to the cigarette again, held perfectly between his fingers, thumb pressed to the filter to keep it from burning out. It looks like he’s familiar to it, like he’s done it plenty of times before, because the cigarette just slipped into that exact position like it  _ belongs _ there.

Then Dick snaps out of it and tosses it to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his shoe, and folds his arms over his chest like he’s been standing that way since he arrived. Oh yeah, Jason definitely has the upper hand. And even more blackmail.

“I don’t--” Dick says with a sigh, taking a seat next to Jason on the stairs. “Doesn’t matter who bought them for me, really, we could get our hands on anything and you chose to ask that? That’s stupid, Jay,” Dick huffs out, clearly trying to take Jason’s attention off the topic. It doesn’t work. Jason is still giving him _ that _ look, so Dick takes a deep breath and twists his hands together. “I was seventeen, okay? And I never even liked it, only kept it up for three or so months. It was only because I was having those constant fights with Bruce, and I felt like he wouldn’t let me grow up and become an adult, and I needed to protest somehow.

“Roy was going through the same thing with Oliver Queen, and we just felt like they only saw us as the children they took in. So we did things to feel more rebellious, to become more than just their sidekicks. But when I stopped, Roy took it a couple of steps further. I don’t think he has made up with Oliver yet.”

Jason blinks at Dick and wraps his arms around himself, itching for the cigarette he never got to finish. He considers lighting another one, but decides against it until Dick’s left. “What happened? Between Harper and Queen, I mean,” he asks the older man who finally turns his head to look at him.

“Oliver kicked him out,” Dick says, shrugging one shoulder lightly, like it’s no big deal. But there’s something else edging itself into the tone of his voice, and although Jason can’t put a name on it, he knows it’s nothing good. There’s something a bit too similar to sadness spilling into Dick’s otherwise sparkling eyes. Jason doesn’t like it at all.

“Why?” he asks before he can stop himself. He doesn’t mean to, knows some things aren’t his to know. But it’s too late now and the question’s hanging there heavy in the air.

“That’s not my story to tell, Jaybird. You gotta talk to Roy if you wanna know,” Dick responds, like Jason suspected. Then his phone  _ plings _ and Jason watches him fish it out of the inner pocket of his trench coat.

The younger can’t see what someone sent, but it’s making some of the sadness wash away from Dick’s eyes, so he guesses it’s Roy.

“I gotta go,” Dick tells him, pocketing his phone again. “Oh and Jason? Be frank, you’re not going to tell Bruce about Roy, are you?”

“How can I be frank if I’m Jason?” he shoots back, because Dick really had it coming. Then Dick glares it him with eyes now filled with impatience and annoyance, so he waves a hand through the air and smirks smugly, telling Dick that no, he won’t tell. But he’s got a plan, and Dick doesn’t need to know about it. Not really.

“Thank you,” Dick tells him and before Jason can say anything else, Dick is hugging him. Like, actually hugging him. His arms are wrapped around Jason’s torso, and he buries his face in his little brother’s hair, holding on tight. Then, quicker than it happened, Dick pulls away and flashes Jason a smile. It’s small, no teeth flashing, just a pull of the corners of his lips. Jason knows that smile. It’s Dick’s Jason-smile. It means  _ “Please take care of yourself.” _

Dick leaves then, and Jason’s alone on the stairs yet again. He isn’t feeling ill, never did, but trading shifts with Damian was all part of their plan. He’d feel bad for blackmailing Dick, but if a brother can’t mess with his siblings, then who can he mess with?

When he finally goes back inside, it’s well after midnight, and he never did light another cigarette that night.

 

_ _ _

 

“Father?”

Batman hums, eyes roaming the streets for any suspicious activity.

It’s been a boring night so far, and Drake ditched them early on to patrol another part of the city. Usually, they all split up, but Damian isn’t about stealing Todd’s territory and besides, he only agreed to trade places with him to try and drag some information out of Bruce.

“What do you know about Roy Harper?” Damian asks, noticing out of the corner of his eye how his father seem to freeze for a second before brushing it of.

“Why are you asking?” Batman deadpans in that low pitched voice of his. Damian thinks it’s ridiculous, it’s no one else around to overhear them, anyway.

Damian shrugs and crunches on the rooftop, reaching up to adjust his hood. “He’s always around the manor and Grayson spends a lot of time with him. I just wanna know who he is, but neither Todd nor Drake has a clue, which isn’t shocking--”

“He’s from Star City, was adopted by Queen and was his sidekick until Queen kicked him out. He’s been friends with Dick since their Titans days,” Bruce explains quickly, paying the smallest amount of interest to the conversation.

“Why did Queen kick him out?” Damian responds, knowing that his father will spill everything at once because he really doesn’t care much for Harper.

“He had a drug addiction,” Bruce answers and Damian knows that he’s done with their conversation now, and goes back to being the Dark Knight.

They come in at five and the youngest is ready to sleep until noon. Drake, however, seems to have another idea.

“Let’s go find Jason,” he tells Damian and actually has the nerve to wrap his fingers around his wrist to drag him along to Jason’s room.

Jason’s lying on the bed upside down. He has his back against the mattress, but his long legs are sprawled out over the headboard but crossed at the ankles, facing the ceiling. At first glance, one would think he’s asleep, but looking closer his fingers are drumming a rhythm against his stomach, his head bobbing along to it. Damian strides over to the bed and rips his earbuds out.

“Hey!” Jason yells annoyed. Tim catches his wrist before he can land a punch on their demon brother.

“Harper got kicked out by Queen, apparently. Father told me,” Damian tells Jason in that flat and monotone voice he uses when he’d rather be somewhere else.

Jason blinks and Tim releases his wrist. His hand falls to his stomach again. Tim sits down on the bed. “Really?” Jason asks, eyes glancing between the two teens. “I knew that already, but what happened, then? What’d he do?”

“He was on drugs,” Tim answers this time and Damian nods to confirm it.

Jason’s eyebrows knit together like there’s a piece of the puzzle missing, then it all starts to come back to him, and it all makes sense now. How Roy had always seemed so… ill. A drug addiction would explain it all; the underweight and the thick layers of long sleeved shirts, his constant runny nose and flushed skin, his tiny pupils and sleepy eyes, and his complaints of nausea always muttered in that raspy voice of his, always  _ slurred. _

Jason hadn’t paid it a lot of thought back then, when he had been a teenager too. But he always avoided asking Roy for cigarettes first, never wanting to bother the older teen even though it was Jason’s fastest and easiest way to get his hands on a packet. It could’ve been any kind of illness back then, but the mention of an addiction makes pictures of Roy’s arms flash before his eyes and he knew it. He knew they weren’t usual scars.  _ They were track marks. _

On the other hand, he already knew that Roy was kicked out. Dick had told him the previous evening. So he doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of new information and absolutely nothing about how Bruce feels about Roy in the first place.

“Nothing else?” Jason asks the teens. They both shake their heads. “Nothing at all? Like, did Bruce mention anything about his opinion of Roy? No?”

“No, Todd, he did not,” Damian huffs, narrowing his eyes. “But judging by the way he spoke of Harper, I’d say father is not very fond of him.”

Jason’s eyes light up and he shoots up from the bed and into a sitting position, with his legs crossed. “He doesn’t like Roy? That’s great!” he exclaims happily and for a split second Tim thinks Jason’s actually gonna squeal when his voice goes up another octave.

“Uh--” Tim shares a look with Damian, who just shrugs because who even knows what’s going on inside Jason Todd’s head.

“Well, it’s not  _ great, _ it’s quite awful, but! Now we know that daddy dearest doesn’t like Roy, which is probably why Dick’s trying to keep it all hidden. Bruce, however, can’t be completely clueless, now can he? He’s a damn fucking good detective, and if  _ I _ was suspicious, then Brucie must’ve already worked it out, don’t you think, brats?” Jason tries to explain to the others. Tim nods. Damian takes a seat at his desk, shoving half drunk soda cans, a lighter and kohl eyeliner off the chair and onto the floor. The whole mess lands with a loud clatter. Jason sends him a dirty look.

“Little D, stop breaking my stuff and listen. Anyway, so, this is Dickiebird, yeah? And he’s, well… you lot know how he is. He probably doesn’t suspect a thing, probably thinks Bruce isn’t onto them. But Dick doesn’t know that we know that Bruce knows, which creates the perfect opportunity for us to mess with him. And make him do Alfred’s chores. And buy us pretty gifts, like new guns. But not for Damian cause he’s got a bit of a blood thirst.”

“Jay, you’re the only one here who use guns,” Tim points out. He sounds tired, like he can’t see all the fantastic things Dick are about to do for them. He has no choice, not really. Not if he wants them to go spill his pretty secret to the Big Bat himself.

“Yes, and I could really use some new ones. I have a bad habit of losing them around the city, loaded and all. Now, Damian, I expect you’re familiar with the perfect usage of blackmail. Tim, you’ve probably got a thing or two to learn. We’ll start tomorrow when the Boy Wonder returns. Remember, kids, threats aren’t always a bad thing. Use your power wisely.”

 

_ _ _

 

Dick had not planned on being away the whole night, but what harm could it really do, considering most of his family was out anyway, spending the night running around on rooftops.

He returns by half past six and he feels bad for waking Roy up at such an ungodly hour only so Dick could tell him goodbye and that he’ll call him later. The redhead had muttered something in response, then fell asleep again in an instant.

The manor is quiet, but no one can be asleep. Except for Jason, maybe. That man can sleep through gunfire without even stirring. Alfred’s not in the kitchen when Dick passes it, but he comes to a sudden halt because his three brothers are. Which is weird. And odd. And a bit disturbing because they never get along.

Tim is sitting on a high stool by the counter, and on said counter Jason is sitting. They’re all in their pajamas, and Dick suddenly feels a little bit left out, also wanting to be invited to the party. Damian is sitting by the table, putting too much sugar into a cup of tea then stirs it. Pennyworth is on his lap.

“Why are you trying to woo Tim?” Dick asks Jason, entering the kitchen as well. He watches the man on the counter braid the other’s hair, tongue poking out between two plump lips and eyebrows drawn together in concentration. It’s not going to be a long braid, but Tim has the longest hair out of the four, reaching his shoulders.

“Don’t be such a  _ dick,” _ Jason mutters, not even turning to look at Dick. “He’s my baby brother, you gross fuck. I’m just doing his hair,” he finishes off, but there is no actual heat behind his words.

“You’re ruining my hair,” Tim complains and takes a sip of his pitch black coffee. He makes no move to make Jason stop, though. Dick believes that they both enjoy the moment of bonding.

Then something catches the oldest’s attention. He leans a bit closer to the counter and takes a long, good look at Jason’s face. Dick can see his eyebrow twitch, meaning he’s annoyed by Dick’s closeness.

“You’re wearing eyeliner,” Dick points out, a grin on his face. It makes Jason huff.

“It’s kohl and it’s smudged. It brings out my mysterious side,” Jason explains and really, for every passing day it gets harder and harder for Dick to believe that he’s actually twenty fucking years old.

“Why? You look like you haven’t slept for days. Are you trying to steal Drake’s look?” Damian says, sipping his tea in that posh way that Alfred has taught him all about.

Jason rolls his eyes at the comment, Tim shoots his little brother a harsh glare, and Dick snickers loudly, making Tim turn his glare at him instead. He sips his coffee slowly, eyeing his oldest brother up and down and although it’s just Tim, and he’s the least intimidating out of Dick’s younger brothers, it still makes him feel uneasy, fingers clenching and unclenching in an attempt to stop himself from fidgeting.

“That’s not your jacket,” Tim says, making Damian and Jason look at Dick too. He’s right, the jacket Dick’s wearing is denim, and it’s definitely not the trench coat he wore when he snuck out the previous night. “And that’s not your shirt,” Tim then points out and he’s right. Again.

“Did you just step out of Harper’s closet?” Jason snorts, finishing the braid and tying a hair tie around the end of it. He slides down off the counter and walks a lap around the stool Tim’s sitting on, a frown gracing his features. “The braid’s fucking adorable, but something’s missing. Dick, go get me some hairspray.”

“What,” Dick asks, blinking. “I’m not your personal assistant, Jay. Go get it yourself.”

Jason smirks at him from over Tim’s shoulder, and he looks smug. There’s no hairspray close to this area of the manor, and to get some Dick would have to walk all the way to the other wing, and he’s not going to do that just so Jason can style Tim’s stupid hair.

“Oh but you are,” Jason shoots back, putting his hands on Tim’s shoulders. The teen has got that smug look on his face too, and suddenly Dick doesn’t even want an invitation to the pajamas party anymore, not if they’re gonna treat him like this. “I’m sorry, but where did you get those clothes again?”

Blackmail. There it is. Dick’s been waiting for this moment since Jason caught him and Roy on the couch the other day. He’s planned this, and unless Dick wants him to go spilling his secrets to Bruce, he’s going to be his personal assistant and get that goddamn hairspray.

“Father will hear about this,” Damian says from the table, petting Pennyworth slowly. He looks evil and Dick shudders.

“Dami! He will not!” Dick shouts, his eyes going wide with realization. “You  _ told  _ them?” he yells at Jason, who does not, in fact, look guilty at all. He looks pleased.

Jason shrugs and moves to stand next to Tim instead of behind him. “That was before you made me promise not to tell. And besides, that promise sucks because I said I wouldn’t tell Bruce, which I won’t _ if  _ you do whatever  _ we _ say you’re going to do.”

Dick’s fists clench by his sides and he takes a deep breath, counts to ten, and goes over the pros and cons of punching Jason right in the face and leaving the manor to go live with Roy. But that would be dramatic, and it’s just hairspray anyway, so he sighs in defeat and folds his arms, looking at his other brothers. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Tim pipes up from the high stool, putting his now empty cup on the counter Jason just previously sat on. “When you get back, make me new coffee. I can’t risk falling asleep.”

“You’re not too good for sleep, Tim. You need it,” Dick points out, a shimmer of concern swimming in his bright blue eyes.

“Nah, but sleep is too good for me. Now of you go,” Tim responds, waving his hand through the air to show Dick that he’s disowned and should immediately leave the kitchen to fetch a can of hairspray.

Dick returns after seven minutes, a gray can of hairspray clutched in his hand. He hands it to Jason, who nods a ‘thanks’ in return, and lets his eyes skimmer over the kitchen. Damian’s missing.

“Where’s Dami?” he asks, watching Jason take the lid off the can and tossing it over his shoulder. It lands with a clatter and rolls away under a chair.

“Pennyworth peed on the floor, so Little D took him away to the litter box,” Tim explains, squeezing his eyes shut when Jason starts to spray his hair.

A thick cloud of hairspray forms around the three of them, making Jason turn away and cough loudly after accidentally inhaling it. Then he shakes the can again, runs his fingers through Tim’s fringe, and lets the spray settle.

“Oh and you should probably wipe it up before Alfred sees it and goes on some kind of rant about how that cat brings shame upon his sacred name,” Jason says, once he’s caught his breath. He waves his hands around him, trying to clear the air. Tim makes a face, scrunching up his nose.

“Make my coffee first. I don’t want cat pee in it,” he tells Dick, who considers suffocating them both with hairspray. He just needs a lot more cans of it. It probably isn’t worth it. Still, he considers it. Briefly.

“Right,” Dick mutters and walks over to the brand new coffee machine. He has no idea how to make coffee though, cause Dick’s not a coffee person. He doesn’t have time to make any beverages, living off of energy drinks when he has to. But Tim’s a coffee person, and Damian prefers tea, like Alfred. Although not tea like Earl Grey, but tea made from leaves and herbs and dried fruit. Dick guesses he grew up with it. Jason’s a soda person, downing cans of coke whenever he has the opportunity to. His room is full of old cans and other litter. If it’s not coke, then it’s beer, although it’s not that often.

“Dick, you need a cup first,” Tim tells him wearily, watching Dick eye the strange machine.

“I know that,” Dick grumbles and walks over to the cupboard where Alfred stores all the cups and mugs. He gets up on his tippy toes, curses whoever thought it was a good idea to put the cups on the highest shelf, and grabs the first one he can reach.

“Not that one,” Jason says, leaning against the counter. “That’s Bruce’s favorite. He’ll skin you alive.”

Dick huffs out a breath of air, gets on his tippy toes again, and places the cup where it just previously stood. Then he gets the one next to it. A baby blue with two bunnies on it, he notices. It’ll do. He walks back to the coffee machine, places the cup under it, and tries to think of the next step.

“You can’t brew coffee without water, Dick,” Tim points out, picking at a bit of loose skin on his lip. The oldest can hear Jason stifle a snicker in the background.

So he grabs the small tank on the back of the machine, fills it with ice cold water, and puts it back in its place. When he presses the start button, he watches the machine light up, then he presses the small button that says ‘black coffee’ and waits as the water heats up. Soon enough the cup begins to fill with a pitch black liquid, steam rising from it.

When it’s done he hands the cup of coffee to Tim, who flashes him a quick smile of gratitude before taking the first sip of it. How the teen manages not to burn his tongue off, Dick doesn’t know.

“Well, we should get going. Right, Timmy?” Jason says, stretching his arms high above his head, his back cracking audibly. “And Dickiebird, you should probably get started on that cat pee shit. Alfred will be here in, like, five minutes.” Saluting Dick before exiting the kitchen, Tim trailing behind him, slightly to his right, they’re gone in an instant.

Dick spends the rest of the day doing useless chores and tasks for his three little brothers. At some point Jason even called him from the cave all the way up to the younger man’s room, and when Dick got there, flushed from rushing, Jason only asked him to hand him his earbuds. His goddamn earbuds that were lying around tangled on his nightstand, right next to him.

Was it worth it? Probably not. But at least it’s better than an endless scolding from Bruce, so he handed Jason his earbuds with a bright smile.

 

_ _ _

 

The next days are all the same; Dick running back and forth between his brothers, handing them the things they ask for, taking Pennyworth for a walk around the gardens at least three hours a day, cleaning Jason’s room and throwing away about two hundred cans of beer and coke, writing Tim’s English essay for him, taking Jason shopping for a new biker’s jacket, sharpening Damian’s katanas, and many, many more things that either Alfred or the boys themselves usually do instead of Dick.

Today’s been a calm day though, and Dick is silently wishing that they’re starting to run out of chores for him to do. Roy is sitting on his bed, back against the headboard and skipping through an old archery magazine that he’s probably read a hundred times now. Dick is sitting in between Roy’s sprawled out legs, back against the redhead’s chest, watching him skip from page to page. It’s quite nice, actually. Dick wouldn’t mind doing this for an eternity.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door, and before Dick can shout that whoever’s knocking can piss off, the door is thrown open. They’re met by none other than Jason Peter Todd. He’s got that signature smirk on his face, looking all smug. His hair is messy, like he just rolled out of bed. Dick knows he probably spent an hour styling it that way.

“Hello, big brother. You busy?” the younger man asks, clearly not caring whether Dick’s actually busy or not cause he steps into the room and stands by the foot of the bed. He’s carrying a piece of clothing.

“Hey, is that new?” Roy asks from behind Dick, nodding to the jacket Jason’s wearing. “I like it.”

“Why, thank you,” Jason smiles and something familiar to pride lights up his features. He throws Roy a dashing grin. “I’ve got a whole bunch of them, just in case.”

He’s wearing a bright red leather jacket which has a black belt in the same material threaded through the loops of it. It’s not decorated with pins yet, nor has he painted or written anything on it. Dick knows it’s just a matter of time, though. After all, he painted the word ‘HATE’ in capital letters across his first ever leather jacket. It’s now hanging in his wardrobe, not wanting to ruin it.

“What’s that?” Dick asks, nodding to the piece of clothing Jason’s still holding. He guesses Jason only popped in to deliver it, seeing no other reason for him to just burst through the door to Dick’s room. Well, except for just messing with him and teasing him, that is. He knew Roy would be over.

“Oh, this?” Jason responds, motioning to whatever he’s holding. “It’s a shirt. I made it for you.”

“A shirt?” Dick asks, clearly not amused. Jason nods excitedly at him, rolls the folded shirt into a ball and tosses it across the bed to him. Dick catches it by reflex.

He unfolds the shirt, holding it up in front of him, staring at it with a straight face. He feels his eyebrow twitch after a second, and drops the shirt to the bed. Roy is obviously trying to stifle his laughter. Dick can feel the soft rumble of his chest against his back.

“I’m not wearing his shirt, Jason,” Dick tells him, shooting a pointed look at his little brother who’s still standing there, hands locked together behind his back innocently. He’s grinning widely, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Awh, come on!” Jason groans, then he pouts. “You have to. You know _ why.” _

So Dick grumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like a threat and tugs off the tee he’s currently wearing, throwing it at Jason’s cackling face. He hopes it smells like sweat. Then he grabs the shirt on the bed, tugging it over his head which makes his hair stand up funnily, and down over his torso.

_ ‘Jason’s Personal Assistant’ _ it reads. He clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. Roy can’t hold his laughter anymore and he doesn’t even look sorry for laughing at Dick’s ridiculous shirt. He easily escapes the redhead’s loose grip, elbowing him in the ribs as he does so. It does not make him stop laughing, however.

“Oh and Timmy and Little D thought you can wear these on your Nightwing suit. I told them to make them blue, so they won’t mess up the colorcode too much,” Jason says then, walking over to where Dick’s sitting on the bed. He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and grasps something in the palm of his hand, handing it to Dick.

It’s two badges. Both are blue, like Jason said. The first one has black text and it reads  _ ‘I Worship Robin’  _ in bold letters, whereas the other has a cursive font in red that says  _ ‘Red Robin is my idol’. _

Dick closes his fingers around them, squeezing them in his hand hard, silently counting to ten. He’s never had any problems controlling his temper before, unlike Jason and Damian. But really, this is just ridiculous.

“What the fuck,” he mutters. This is worse than losing a bet. This is just evil.

“I think you would look hot, babe,” Roy mutters from behind him, strong arms sliding around his waist, pulling him closer. Dick can hear the humor in his voice though, and he considers sending the redhead home again. It’s not okay to mess with your beloved, not when he’s being blackmailed.

“Shut the fuck up, Roy,” Dick shoots back, his words laced with fire. He sounds tired at the same time, and gives in to the man holding him, leaning against his chest again.

“Nah, I don’t feel like it,” Roy answers, nuzzling the crook of Dick’s neck. Then he looks up, seafoam green eyes meeting Jason’s teal ones, and flashes the younger man a smile. “Hey, can I have a shirt too, Jay?”

Jason nods and begins to walk towards the door, a secretive smirk on his face. He stops by the doorway, leaning against the wall, and says, “Why, of course, loverboy.”

Dick grits his teeth, eyes narrowing at his adoptive brother dressed in red leather just casually leaning against the wall. What the hell is he playing at. “Would you stop flirting with my boyfriend?”

“I thought you weren’t together? I mean, I just figured by the way you yelled “he’s not my boyfriend, Jason!” when I asked you if he is,” Jason points out. Then he blows Roy a quick kiss, takes a bow, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud  _ bang. _

Roy and Dick sit in silence for a moment before the redhead breaks it. “So I’m your boyfriend now?” he asks.

Dick rolls his eyes and tilts his head back onto Roy’s shoulder. He clasps his hands over Roy’s where they’re resting on his stomach and tells him, “Shut it, Roy, you know we’re boyfriends.”

And really, they are. Jason knew this already.

 

_ _ _

 

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Dick asks his boyfriend the following day.

The redhead is sitting in the TV room, and together with him on the couch in front of the very big flat screen on the wall, is Damian and Jason. Which makes no sense at all. Well, Dick can understand why Jason is there, flirting with Roy only to mess with Dick. But Damian… shouldn’t he be at school to begin with?

“What?” Roy frowns, taking sip of soda before passing the can to Jason. It’s coke. “Oh! This,” he gestures to the black shirt with white writing across it, “is the tee Jason made me. Remember? I asked him--”

“Yes, I remember,” Dick cuts him off, folding his arms over his chest, disapproving. “What are you thinking, wearing it around the manor?”

Roy sighs and leans back against the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him. Jason is cackling like a maniac, clearly proud of his work. “It’s just a shirt, Dick. Don’t get so worked up.”

“It says ‘I like dicks’ in very large, capital letters!” Dick splutters, flailing his arms through the air. “What the fuck, Roy?”

Roy blinks at him. “Babe, you do realize that there are other things called dick than just you?” he asks, managing to press the only buttons left unpressed. Dick’s nostrils flares. He looks like he’s ready to murder everyone in the room. “And I’m gay, you know this, so the shirt is very fitting, don’t you think?”

“Whatever,” Dick mutters, turning on his heel and walking out of the room again. “Come on, Dami. Let’s go bother Tim. You’re the only sane person around here,” he calls over his shoulder, and Damian, never missing an opportunity to make Drake’s life a living hell, tags along happily.

Jason watches them leave. There’s a movie playing on the TV that Jason’s seen a thousand times before. It’s called ‘The Breakfast Club’ and he knows it by heart. “That was strange,” he tells Roy, who hums in response, shoving handfuls of pop-corn into his mouth.

“I’ve been flirting with you all week and he just leaves you here with me. It’s quite offending,” Jason points out, taking another sip of his coke. He swallows audibly and props up his boot clad feet on the table before him.

“He knows it’s not real flirting, kiddo,” Roy responds, chewing on some more pop-corn. Then he swallows it and leans his head against the back of the couch, turning it to the side and grinning at Jason. “Also, he trusts me. Knows I’m not into you.”

Jason frowns and sets the can of coke aside, sitting up more straight and staring down at Roy. “What the hell do you mean by “I’m not into you.” Why not?” he asks, eyebrows drawn together in a deep frown, creating a crease in his forehead.

Roy shrugs and grabs the can the younger man set aside, taking a sip and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m just not into you. You’re not my type, Jay,” he tells Jason. It does him no good, Jason only frowns deeper and crosses his arms over his chest, huffing.

“Then what exactly is your type, Harper?” he shoots back, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“You know,” Roy shrugs again, stretching his arms high above his head. “Dick’s my type. Guys like him, I suppose, are my type. You’re not like him.”

Jason gasps and pulls his legs closer to him, sitting up properly. “You like feminine guys, then!” he exclaims, a smug look on his face.

“Dick’s feminine?” Roy asks, removing his cap to run his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp.

“Well, more feminine than the rest of us, that is,” Jason responds and sprawls out his legs over the redhead’s lap, crossing them at the ankles. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and fishes out a packet of smokes, placing a cigarette between his lips.

“I suppose, yeah,” Roy hums, wrapping long fingers around one of Jason’s ankles. Then he grins, watching Jason light the cigarette and take a drag, shaking his head when he offers him one. “Can’t believe you still smoke Winston.”

“They’re cheap!” the younger man claims, leaning his head against the armrest behind him and exhaling the smoke. “I’ve saved a lot of money by buying cheap smokes.”

Roy looks away then, going back to watching the movie instead of Jason. Then he tells him, “You’ve wasted a lot of money by smoking, Jay.”

Jason snorts and ashes the cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the table top. He brings the cigarette back to his lips, taking a steady drag and holds the smoke. “Like you wasted money on heroin,” he mumbles through the gray cloud leaving his mouth.

Roy freezes. His fingers around Jason’s ankle stills, then he removes them completely, resting his hand next to himself on the couch instead. “How did you know?” he asks the younger man, still not looking at him. His voice is quiet, but chilly. It was clearly meant to be a secret. Bruce really must not like him.

“Don’t worry, Dick didn’t tell me,” Jason responds, shifting slightly on the couch and uncrossing his ankles. He stares up at the ceiling, following the smoke from his cigarette and suddenly he doesn’t want it anymore. It tastes weird on his tongue. He might as well tell a white lie, only hiding some of the truth. “Bruce did,” he says, which is true, in a way. Tim told him, and Damian told Tim. But Bruce was the one who spilled the truth to begin with. Dick had refused to.

“Right,” the redhead mumbles, staring blankly at the TV in front of him. He’s not watching the movie anymore, his eyes are too unfocused for that. He’s clearly lost in thought, and Jason doesn’t know what a heroin addiction feels like, but he knows what it looks like, and the images aren’t pretty. Neither are the flashbacks, he guesses.

“I’m sorry,” Jason whispers. It’s genuine. He didn’t mean to. “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he tells Roy, because he shouldn’t have. Cigarettes are nothing compared to heroin, but both of them are a waste of time and money. And Roy’s past addictions are his personal business, and Jason shouldn’t be involved with them. Perhaps only Dick should be.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Roy responds, giving Jason a small smile. His eyes are still a bit unfocused. They look sad, almost. Sad like Dick’s eyes looked when he told Jason about their teen years. “It was stupid to think it wouldn’t come out,” he continues, trying to brush it all off. It doesn’t work.

Jason frowns and parts his lips to say something else, but then Dick enters the room again, looking extremely tired and worn out. The brats must’ve made him do chores again. His features light up a bit when he spots Roy, but then they harden and his eyes look concerned now.

“Hello,” Dick says, taking a few steps closer until he’s standing by Roy’s other side, looking down at him.

Roy nods a ‘hello’ in response, then he looks up at his boyfriend and neither of them say anything else. They just share these looks with each other that Jason’s totally left out of, so he watches them instead. It’s like their own language, just speaking with their eyes and at last Dick sighs and offers Roy a hand, which he grabs quickly.

Dick leads his boyfriend out of the room, but Jason can hear them coming to a halt just outside the door left cracked. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop either, but really, he needs to know that Roy’s actually okay. That he didn’t step too far over the invisible line.

“You know I don’t care,” Dick says, in that soft and loving voice of his. Roy doesn’t answer, so he goes on. “You know I don’t care about the scars and the marks, Roy. You know I don’t. I don’t care how many they are, how nasty they look, how deep they go. They’re part of you and I just want you. All of you.”

And Jason had no clue that Roy is extremely insecure about his past, that he’s so self-conscious about his old track marks that he fears Dick will leave him. But, on the other hand, Jason isn’t particularly shocked either, because he knows all people have something they’re insecure about. The young man himself has a long list of insecurities; his rage, his abandonment issues, his death. It just goes on and on and on.

But if this is what love sounds like, Dick telling Roy that it’s okay, that he’s okay, in that special voice and holding his hands, then Jason no longer fears being loved, completely and properly.

He looks to the floor where Roy’s cap is lying around. He reaches down and grabs it. He’ll just give it back the next time the redhead’s around. He smiles, even though it’s gentle and barely there, turning the cap over in his hands and running the pad of his thumb against it. Yeah, it’s okay.

 

_ _ _

 

“That’s Roy’s shirt,” Jason tells Dick when he spots the older man walking past his room to his own.

It’s been a week since the incident, and Roy’s only been over once since then. Jason had given the cap back, smiled that gentle barely there smile that will someday come to be known as his Roy-smile, and apologized once again. The redhead had told him that it was alright, that he accepted his apology, but will beat the living shit out of him if he ever brings it up again. It had made Jason laugh.

Dick stops right outside his door, leaning against the doorframe. He looks happy. Jason wants that kind of happiness, too. “It’s my boyfriend’s shirt, which means it’s mine. And the statement isn’t exactly incorrect,” he points out, smiling at his younger brother.

Jason shrugs and looks at the tee the older man is wearing. It’s the black one that says ‘I like dicks’ in large, white letters. Dick came out as bisexual many years ago, when Jason was just a teen. It was before he died. He had been questioning then, confused about his feelings for other boys, especially since he had feelings for girls at the same time. But Dick coming out had helped him, in some kind of way. It put a name on his feelings and confusion, and made him realize that it’s okay. There was nothing wrong with him. There are a lot of things wrong with him now, but his sexuality isn’t one of them.

Everyone knows that Jason is bisexual too, and he’ll never forget the day he had told his older adoptive brother. The smile Dick had given him then was proud and bright. They now own matching bi pride shirts. Then, not so long ago, only a few months after Jason’s return to Wayne Manor, he had had a similar conversation with Tim. It ended with Tim and Jason going out shopping for more pride stuff, and Jason buying the teen a bracelet in the colors pink, yellow and blue. Tim wears it proudly every day.

A  _ pling _ brings him out of his thoughts. Dick is still standing by the door, clearly also thinking. He reaches for his phone on his nightstand. There’s a text from Tim, which he opens and reads through quickly.

“Come on, Dickiebird,” he says and gets up from his bed. He rolls his shoulders and cracks his back, then grabs his jacket from the chair by his desk and pushes Dick away from the doorway. “Tim says we’re supposed to meet in the cave. All of us, even Alfred. And Roy.”

At the mention of his beloved’s name, Dick looks up. Confusion is written all over his face, but for once, instead of asking a stupid question Jason can’t answer, he keeps his mouth shut and follows Jason all the way down to where they’re supposed to meet.

“What’s up?” Jason calls out once he and Dick enter the cave. He slips his jacket on, the usual black one, and walks over to where Tim, Alfred and Bruce are standing. “Where’s the little brat? And the hot redhead?” he asks, eyes skimming over the small group of people. They’re now five.

“Harper’s on his way, should be here any second now, and Damian’s right there,” Bruce answers, pointing behind Dick and Jason. And yeah, there he is, looking more annoyed than ever.

“Father, why this sudden family meeting? I was busy,” Damian complains with a huff, standing next to Alfred.

“I’ll tell you once Harper shows up,” Bruce responds and the conversation comes to an end.

Not even five minutes later Roy joins them, standing between Jason and Dick. Closer to Dick, though. Their arms brush together occasionally. Jason’s got a bad feelings about this.

“This comes to an end. Now,” Bruce tells them all, looking between his four children, then Roy and Alfred. “The blackmailing. It stops now.”

Tim blinks at him and Jason gapes at him because really, how did they ever think that Bruce wouldn’t find out? Then Damian shares a look with Tim and Jason, and before the latter knows it, Damian puts him in the middle of the gunfire, clearly not giving a shit about Jason as long as he saves his own skin.

“It was Todd’s idea. It was his plan,” the youngest of the group says to his father, although he’s not looking at him. He’s glaring at Jason, narrow eyes piercing him and he’s very, very capable of murder. Jason is too.

“I don’t care if it was Jason’s idea, you still took part of it,” he tells his biological son, then turning his head to look at Tim, who’s just standing there, barely blinking. “I know you’re a good person, Tim, but I also know that you wouldn’t hesitate about participate in this sort of thing. However, I am disappointed. In all of you,” he tells Tim, but his eyes are staring at Jason by the end of his sentence.

Jason rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. Are they really about to get a scolding for some stupid blackmail? They didn’t even put Dick through anything serious! At most they made him clean their rooms. “Why does it matter anyway?” Jason fires back, his eyes blazing. “We made him, like, sharpen Damian’s swords and brew coffee. It’s nothing.”

“Jason,” Bruce sighs, sounding exhausted all of sudden. “You tried to control him with fear. Fear that you would tell me about his relationship with Harper, even though I already know. I’ve known longer than any of you,” he continues, eyes glancing to where Roy and Dick are standing.

“You knew?” Dick splutters out, eyes wide with shock. He takes a step forward, but then Roy catches his hand in his and pulls him back. It seems to calm him down instantly. “And you knew that he knows?” he almost yells at his adoptive brothers. Ah, not entirely calm, then.

Tim flinches and takes a step back, whereas Damian just rolls his eyes. Just like Jason, he finds the meeting a waste of precious time. “Well, we just thought it would be fun,” Jason says, looking past Roy to speak directly to Dick. “And it was. It really was.”

“Fun?!” Dick shouts at him. “You thought it was funny? You knew that I was scared that Bruce would find out about me and Roy, cause he’s picky and has always tried to choose my dates for me. I knew he wouldn’t approve, even though I’m twenty-fucking-four years old. I just wanted to avoid the fight that surely would ensue, but I got this instead!” he finishes off, panting heavily. His empty fist is clenched, and he must be clenching his other too because Roy looks like he wants to pull his hand away more than anything.

Then the redhead steps in front of Dick, giving him a look, and pulls him away from the rest of the group. They stand too far away for the others to hear what they’re talking about. It doesn’t even echo through the cave. But Dick looks hysterical and Roy looks calm, like they’re opposites, a perfect match.

The shorter is waving his arms around, most likely trying to prove a point, or perhaps just ranting, and the redhead’s just watching him with soft eyes, like an anchor that Dick can just cling to whenever he needs it. After a while Dick looks like he’s on the edge of breaking down, and his shoulders hunch with exhaustion. Roy wraps his arms around him then, holding him close to his chest and letting Dick hide his face against his boyfriend’s neck. He stills and melts into Roy, not ranting anymore.

The embrace is what love should look like, Jason thinks. But he also feels like it’s not his moment to share, so he looks away. His eyes land on Bruce, and he’s not looking at Roy and Dick either, but Jason can tell that he previously did. He’s got a closed off look on his face, but behind the mask something’s shining through, and it looks like guilt. He’s got a lot to feel guilty about, one thing being trying to control Dick’s love life. Jason guesses he only did it out of love. He’s protective, just didn’t want Dick to get hurt.

After a moment Dick and Roy return to the group, and although Dick looks calm again, he still looks upset. A pang of guilt makes Jason’s stomach sink.  _ So this is how Bruce feels. _ Tim fidgets on the spot, and upon Dick’s return he shoots up, crossing the distance between them and throws his arms around his older brother. Dick hugs him back, resting his chin on Tim’s shoulder.

It looks genuine, and nice, and suddenly Jason feels jealous of their brotherly love. Tim and Dick are close in a way that Jason never will be with any of them. He blames his death for that. He’s got three brothers; one who wants to slit his throat from time to time, one who  _ he _ wanted to slit the throat of some time ago, and one who cares about him more than anyone else in this world. Brotherly love, he just wants some brotherly love.

The meeting ends after that, and one by one they all spill back into the manor. Alfred hurries off to prepare dinner, Damian joining him in the kitchen. Bruce leaves for his office and Tim heads for the library quietly, Pennyworth following him. Roy says he’s got a train to catch soon, and has to finish his packing, so he’s kind of in a hurry. Dick offers him help, but Roy sneaks a glance over his shoulder at someone Dick can’t see, smiles at him and tells him that it’s okay and that he should probably stay at the manor. The redhead’s heading to Star City. He says he’s got some things to work out and family to reunite with. Dick bids him goodbye with a soft kiss, then he’s gone, too.

He stands alone in the foyer until Alfred calls him to dinner. They all gather around the large table in the dining hall, even Bruce. But when Dick takes his seat by Bruce’s left, he notices someone missing. He quickly excuses himself and stands up to leave. Alfred tells him that it’s fine, sending a caring smile his way.

He finds Jason in the gardens. The younger man is sitting in the wet grass, rain falling heavily against the ground. He’s huddled up, arms wrapped around his legs that are pulled to his chest. He’s been through a lot, that one. He’s been through more than the rest of them combined. He’s seen more things than any other twenty year old. But at that moment he looks so young and worn out at the same time. He looks like the boy Dick was introduced to a few years prior. It’s like he hasn’t aged a day, even though he’s died, too.

“Hello,” Dick says softly, sitting down next to him. Jason doesn’t look up, he just blinks the raindrops out of his eyes and he looks like he did when he finally came back to Wayne Manor all those months ago, when Alfred had opened the door for him once again, soaked in rain and shivering but trying to hide it. He’s shivering this time too.

“You care about me, right?” Jason asks him very quietly, and if Dick weren’t waiting for a response, he probably wouldn’t have caught it.

“Of course I do,” the older man tells him, turning his head to look directly at him.

Jason hums and rests his chin on his knees. His eyes are closed now, and he takes a deep shuddering breath, as if preparing for a fight. “But do you love me?” he asks, and there’s so much pain in his voice that’s always there, and always hidden.

Dick stares and blinks and stares some more, and when Jason hides his face completely, he finally moves. He slides closer to the younger man and wraps his arms tightly around his shivering frame. Jason lets him, and Dick just holds him until Jason finally gives in and wraps his own arms around Dick too.

“I love you, Jason, I love you,” Dick says very softly and Jason’s grip on his shirt tightens, like he doesn’t want to let go. The younger man doesn’t say it back, and Dick knows he can’t. “You were my first brother, Jay. I’ve loved you since the beginning.”

A thought hits him then, that this is probably the first time Jason’s heard the words ‘I love you’ directed at him and him only. The first ever time. And they’re meant for him. Dick doesn’t know how he hasn’t noticed it before, just how damaged Jason really is. For now, it’s not okay. But sometime in the future it will be, and yeah, Dick loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> i really don't give a single shit about the correct age gaps or anything. i do not. oh and i loved writing this to evolve jason and tim's relationship and make them grow closer as brothers. (: team more bonding for jason.


End file.
